Shekkebet looks uncomprehendingly at the enormous dent in his side from the tiny statue and topples over soundlessly, opaque lids sliding down over his normally unblinking eyes.
10! He self-stabilizes at the end of the round! Hot patooties!
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Seeing his friends getting in solid blows, Shekebbet thinks to himself, 'Why not?' and takes a swing at it with his magister's staff. Lacking any real combat training, he fears that his half-hearted attempt at playing warrior will not suffice.
Shekebbet's staff swirls nimbly in his grasp, as he attempts to block any incoming attack from the tiny creature.
He also dredges his memory of any scrap of arcane lore that might be of use in avoiding a fight with such a guardian construct, or, if necessary, to quickly and safely defeat it! 15 on Aid Other roll, 24 on Knowledge (arcana) roll. If he recalls anything that seems remotely useful, he shouts it out hurriedly.
Intrigued by the appearance of the crystal faen, Shekebbet only belatedly attempts to step back from it's approach, raising his staff to attempt to ward off any blows.
Shekebbet pulls himself carefully to the top of the ladder to examine the rune-scribed box. "Surely, if there were thieves searching for something precious here, a treasure that is warded by magic would top the list. Whatever wards this box must have been adequate to prevent it's theft, so we should exercise caution..." He examines the chest minutely, but does not touch it.
Shekkebet takes Keiva's suggestion to heart and, attempting to be gentle about it, drags the unconscious man into the warehouse, rather than leave him in the alley. The half-burnt thug that our ferocious feline friend drubbed against the wall can stay where he lies, however... He otherwise offers no comment, watching the others advance cautiously through black unblinking eyes.
Shekkebet stands to move up to Pendrick's back, leaving room, if possible, for more physically competent persons to stand at his side. His voice is dry, but carries a hint of amusement as he quips, "It doesn't matter how many there are, it's not like we're going to back down anyway, Pen..."
The oily concoction smolders for a moment longer, and then dies out. Shekebbet sees that the enraged lioness has cleared the fence without any supernatural assistance and is somewhat startled at her fierce tone. He moves out of her way and kneels to check on the condition of the wounded man. 4 damage if the Alchemist's Fire gets a second round of damage.
Shekebbet reaches into his pouch and produces a bulbous flask containing a bright orange liquid, which he then flings at the thug. Upon impact it bursts into flames.
Nonplussed by his utter lack of ranged utility, Shekebbet swears crudely in Draconic. The stunning energies wash over him, his slender form twisting to avoid their force as he mutters an invocation and attempts to scale the fence with unnatural skill and swiftness. In common, he says angrily, "Fools like you should not play at magic."
If the wrought-iron gate has a latch, Shekebbet will open it, to allow his companions to pass through. In any event, the advantage of surprise has been lost, "Back away, ruffian, before we drag you to the watch."
Sneaking is not Shekebbet's forte, and he bumbles forward with a distinct lack of stealth.
Shekebbet rumbles softly in a Litorian purr, angling his head back so that the sound carries to Tzu,
Spoiler:
"It would be safer if she remained within arm's length of us, so that we might better intercept any harm that might come to her, rather than leave her alone in a 'safe place' that we cannot protect." He continues forward, with no visible sign of fear, although it would be hard to say what a sign of fear would look like on his rigid face...
Shekebbet's lidless eyes turn to the source of the sound, hoping to penetrate the shadows with his keen nightvision as he lifts his staff from the ground and carries it more like a weapon than a walking implement. "It's always something around here, isn't it?" he mutters rhetorically as he moves towards the sounds.
Shekebbet walks silently for a time, his only sound the clacking of his staff on the irregularly maintained cobblestones, allowing his companions to discuss their literary hero before apparently surprising himself with a bit of extemporaneous verse. "Lifting the maiden from the floor, ‘cause
Shekebbet now has a backstory, and I've written in a tie to Pendrick, as they grew up in the same town, and Shekebbet used to be a human friend of his named Soren. Pendrick will be the only one who can get away with calling him Soren, 'though. :)
So I went and statted up a Verrik Wood Witch, which took for-freaking-ever, since I can usually bang out a character in about 15 minutes (I kept losing the thread of it and wandering off to play EverQuest...). So instead, I'm gonna go with the Mojh Magister, whom I indeed banged out in no time flat, so I'm gonna take that as an omen that the Wood Witch and I were not meant to be. Stats are in the profile. Note that he took the Unique Spell feat, and that's always a GM call, so if you hate it, it's gone and I'll find something else. Compared to the Eldritch Armor spell, the Parrying Staff spell is actually a little gimp (since it only affects the caster, has half the bonus and requires the Magister's staff to be in hand), but I felt that it fit the flavor of a Magister to enhance his staff. |